


Mistakes Were Made

by L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Hylia's poor planning, Lead-up to Wind Waker, gods being gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n/pseuds/L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n
Summary: Hylia's a rather powerful and intelligent individual, all things considered. Too bad she doesn't seem to think about things like consequences or logical outcomes or how things look from any perspective other than her own.
Relationships: Din & Hylia (Legend of Zelda), Farore & Hylia (Legend of Zelda), Hylia & Nayru (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 11





	Mistakes Were Made

**Mistakes Were Made**

**The Legend of Zelda and all related media are property of Nintendo.**

/+/+/+/+/

Hylia tried not to wince as her spirit temporarily ascended to the divine realm. She didn’t often do this—it tended to shorten the lifespan of her vessels. But the curse was beating against its cage, and even the mortals of Hyrule could feel that its bonds were weakening.

She blinked, and found herself in a blank, white void. She grew nervous; it’d been ages, but she recalled that the Golden Goddesses crafted some illusion of space—the caldera of a dormant volcano, a clearing in a forest, an island surrounded by seawater—when she spoke with them in the divine realm.

“Well, well, well,” a smooth, sultry voice—Din—called from the void. Hylia turned towards her, only to bend her head down to avoid being blinded by the Golden Goddess’s light. “Look at this, dear sisters! It’s our watchwoman! How goes your task?”

Hylia winced at the mocking voice, but before she could respond, Farore—softer, but no less taunting—said, “The one we gave you, that is. Not the one you gave yourself to get laid.”

Hylia bristled, only for Nayru to coldly declare, “I imagine she’s failed on most accounts. Three times over in that one case.”

“Ah yes!” the Din cried. “Your little boytoy either disappeared from existence, found a _decent_ being—with a stunning head of red locks, if I say so myself—to give some heroic loving,” Hylia blushed, not wanting to think of _that_ particularly embarrassing set of circumstances, “or…what was that third one.”

“Died,” the Farore hissed, voice both a whisper in Hylia’s ear, and a sudden, shaking boom echoing throughout the divine realm. “A child skewered like a pig. By a pig, in a cruel fit of irony.”

Hylia shivered; she should have guessed that the Goddess of Courage would take particular offence to that particular Hero’s threefold fate.

“And now you stand here before us to…what?”

Hylia wet her lips, “T-To ask for your assistance, my Goddesses.”

“Really?” Din laughed, “So you’re finally admitting that the plan you crafted in a bid to get some tall, blonde, blue-eyed dick was a poor one?”

Hylia clenched her fists but kept silent.

“Now, now, sister,” Nayru said, “it’s not our fault she can’t control her libido…Is it?”

“ _I_ certainly didn’t craft the lesser divinity with sexuality in mind,” Farore replied. “But life cannot be so easily contained. Of course, we, rather foolishly, assumed that the one we trusted above the rest would prove above such base desires.” Hylia wilted as the air around her grew colder. Disapproving.

“So,” Din hummed, “I assume you’re here because of the mortals begging for someone to save them from Demise’s lingering hatred?”

“Ah,” Nayru sighed, “another task you’ve failed to accomplish.”

“Now, now, let’s be fair,” Farore said. “Demise _is_ dead. Just millennia after we gave her the task and done by proxy. And it’s not her fault that Demise is intelligent enough to use his own power to craft a cunning and pervasive curse that at least attempts to do what he desires.” Her statement set off a round of mocking laughter, ringing all around Hylia.

She waited until they’d finished—in what could have been seconds or hours—before speaking. “P-Please. I’m aware of my…failings,” she received three derisive snorts in reply, “but the mortals—your creations—are crying, begging, for help.”

“Oh, we’re well aware,” Din said, voice dripping with fury.

“Remember,” Nayru drawled, “we didn’t give up the majority of our divine might to slake carnal desires.”

Hylia wanted to counter that it was more than that. That there was a pure, awe-inspiring joy in seeing the world and its wonders through fresh, young, eyes. To learning one’s limits—which ones to let lie, and which ones to break. To feeling life grow within your womb, and holding your child in your arms, watching them grow to become greater than you could ever hope to be.

Alas, she was damned by the simple fact that she had, in fact, doomed a single mortal soul to help her achieve such things. Never mind that they were apart as often as they were together.

“Lucky for you, we’ve already come up with a solution to that little problem.”

Hylia sucked in a breath, hope welling up in her breast, “You have?”

“Of course—well, Nayru did.” Din huffed, “I had a different method, but defer to the majority.”

“What is it?” Hylia darted her head up, only to have to bring it back down in the face of their light. “W-When can it be done?”

“Oh, we implemented it years ago.” Farore said with a soft sigh. “But flooding the world and herding the mortals to the mountaintops—and sidestepping evolution in more than a few cases—simply takes time.”

Hylia’s blood froze.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Din tutted. “I mean, you all might appreciate the long game, but I really don’t see the point in prolonging the mortals’ suffering.”

“Oh?” Farore sniffed, “and dropping the moon on Hyrule is less terror-inducing and destructive?”

“It’s certainly faster.”

“First of all,” Nayru cut in, “using the moon as a catalyst to seal away the curse would run the risk of letting it take the celestial body over. Second,” she chuckled, “there’s no way, in all of creation, that we’re going to take a page out of that _thing’s_ book.”

“See, it’s those kinds of thoughts that turned the demons against us in the first place.”

“Y-You’re going to flood the world?”

In an instant, the Golden Goddesses returned their eternal attention to her. Farore spoke, “Yes. Your mortal form will receive a dream when—it’s what, five years old now?” Hylia nodded, still numb. “When she’s fourteen. I’m in the middle of crafting it now. A really scary one if I say so myself; lots of thunder and getting swallowed by waves, drowning as you sink to the inky depths.”

“Have you added the sharks like I suggested?”

“I’m not adding sharks, Din.”

“Octorocks are much more terrifying,” Nayru chimed in.

“The point is to focus on the flooding of the world, sisters.”

“And with the flood would be an increase in all sorts of nasty sea creatures. Like that one-eyed squid thing.”

“How is Oshus dealing with his neck of the woods?”

“No idea…We should probably check in on that, shouldn’t we?”

“Considering what happened with the Wind Fish? Yes.”

Hylia dared to clear her throat.

“Hm?” Nayru grunted. “Oh, right, you’re still here. Anyway, your vessel’s father will spend a few years doing his damndest to pretend that nothing is wrong while trying desperately to change or ignore fate, after which he’ll most likely tear apart the Triforce of Wisdom—and Farore, I do apologize for the jests I made when the Triforce of Courage shattered due to Hylia’s interference.” The aforementioned goddess wanted to defend herself, but really, sending her Hero back in time created a lot of problems that she should have forseen.

“Oh, it’s fine sister, I forgave you ages ago. I’m still pissed that Din let the curse obtain the Triforce of Power in that other timeline, however.”

“Oh c’mon, still? I thought it’d be funny! Keep everyone on their toes!”

“And damn two dimensions in the process.”

“Omelets and eggs, sisters, omelets and eggs.”

“M-My Goddesses,” Hylia gulped. Once again, she felt eternally judging eyes peer into her soul. Eyes that found her lacking. But she pushed on. “I…I can’t imagine the curse will stay beneath the flooded world.”

“Oh, no,” Din replied. “Again, it is a cunning thing. It’ll wriggle its way out sooner or later. By then, though, I imagine a Hero-type will have revealed themselves. Not your boytoy, but someone just as good.”

Hylia grew conflicted at that—that in at least one corner of time-and-space, her immortal soul would be left without her eternal love. But…She could adapt. “Very well. I…I will need some time to create tests for this hypothetical—”

“Oh no,” Nayru admonished, “you’re not touching this one.”

“What?” Hylia goggled.

“You had your chance,” Farore said dismissively, “and have at least two other timelines to fiddle around with. We’re taking the lead on this one—we’re flooding the world, after all, only makes sense that we help to fix it.”

“He’ll probably still be tied to your vessels,” Din added. “Assuming your vessels will survive the flooding—although killing them off might make the curse fade away…” Din trailed off, but before Hylia could truly grow terrified for both her vessels and her immortal soul, Din scoffed, “Bah, too complicated. So, looks like you’ll still get your fill of Hero spirit—albeit a different spirit. But variety is the spice of life!”

“I…I see,” Hylia said—it was all she could say.

“Do you?” Nayru asked, voice tinged with amusement. Before Hylia could even think about replying, the Goddess of Wisdom continued, “No matter. We’ve entertained you long enough. Time to go back to your semi-mortal existence.”

“Goodbye,” Farore said with a dismissive grunt.

“Pray one of your incarnations doesn’t do anything to screw things up again!” Din mocked.

Their golden glow lessened, enough that Hylia felt brave enough to lift her head. But there was a trio of loud, harsh snaps, and Hylia was flung from the divine realm.

/+/+/+/+/

Princess Zelda sprung up from her bed with a harsh gasp.

“Zelda?” the young heiress turned to see her father—previously creeping out of the room with her favorite storybook—hustle back to her bed. “Are you well?”

“I…I think so, Father. I just…I think I had a weird dream.”

Her father hummed, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a loose hug. “What about, my child?”

Zelda snuggled into her father’s broad chest. “I don’t know.”

“Well, put it out of your mind.” He pulled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Rest. We have a full day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose, “You might. I have to spend all day stuck in a room with Mr. Milo.”

Her father chuckled, “Does he still insist on delving into the Hero of Time’s fishing habits?”

She made to nod, only to freeze, eyes going wide as she stared up at her father. “Wait, he taught you too?” At his nod, she blinked, “I knew he was old but…”

“He was old when I was your age, believe it or not. Though, he’d only just started balding at that time. I was forced to witness the dozens of different hairstyles he tried, in vain, mind you, to cover up the fact.”

Zelda giggled, slowly drifting to sleep as her father regaled her with stories of his youth, slowly forgetting what made her wake up in the first place. (But Hylia would always remember. And when, in the far, distant future, when Hyrule was fully submerged in the sea, when Fi turned to stone, when her vessel would form a life with a young man that looked and acted so much like her Hero, but was not him, she wept).

/+/+/+/+/

**A/N: Hylia’s competence leaves a lot to be desired. Be sure to leave a review.**


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